


but time and too much don't belong together like we do

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Omlettes, guys this is so fluffy, just boys being cute, there's literally negative plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 04:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20352721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: it's a saturday:simon wakes up, makes omelets, playszelda.baz wakes up, eats an omelet, watches simon playzelda.they both quite certain they're in love, and who's going to disagree?





	1. simon

**Author's Note:**

> title from brandi carlile's "i belong to you" which is a. good song.

Simon wakes up, wrapped in his comforter. His mouth tastes funny, his head is hanging halfway off the bed, and his wings are pressed against the wall. It’s still dark outside, and whenever a car drives past, window shaped-light runs across the room, illuminated everything for a second. The light bounces from the snake plant Agatha had sent him, to the cluster of succulents he’d gotten from a pair of Baz’s friends on their two-month anniversary, to the climbing ivy plant on the wall next to Simon’s closet.

Simon has a lot of plants.

_ “Very restorative, Simon,”  _ Professor Bunce had said, and they’re pretty, Simon supposes. He would’ve killed them all of neglect by now if it wasn’t for Baz, who loves them. He waters them all, and has a little calendar that says when to water which plant. He seems calmer when he’s working with plants.

_ “Nothing like being surrounded by life to make you forget you’re dead,”  _ he’ll say dryly if Simon brings it up, so Simon doesn’t, but he bought Baz a watering can and a pair of socks with plants on them for his birthday. 

The window is framed with a pair of heavy curtains- they’re velour and light yellow. Penny picked them out. Penny picked out most of the stuff in their flat. She figured that if she was living somewhere she didn’t want Simon making any design choices, and Simon’s okay with that. He goes along with what Penny says, mostly. 

Baz is asleep next to Simon, still lightly snoring, so Simon considers going back to sleep, succumbing to wasting the next hour of his day. He thinks he was having a nightmare, though, even if he can’t remember it, and a glance at his clock proclaims it as 8:47. 

A reasonable time to wake up, so Simon does. He untangles himself from his sheets as quietly as he can- they’re impressively noisy for bedsheets, and Baz gives him no end of grief for how loud he can be. Simon’s learned where the floorboards creak, but that doesn’t always stop him from tripping over chairs. 

He doesn’t, not this morning, and manages to make it to the bathroom without falling on his face and waking his boyfriend. Penny’s out today, staying over at some Normal’s house. She’s made a lot of friends and Uni and Simon sometimes feels like congratulating her. He doesn’t, though. It’d be weird. 

Simon brushes his teeth and tries to brush his hair. Since Penny’s gone, he doesn’t really have to get dressed- their flat has the tiniest windows and Baz isn’t about to protest. Well, he might.

Hmmm.

Simon finds a shirt of his that he left on the floor of the bathroom a few days ago and sniffs it. It seems fine, although Baz is always pickier about things like that than Simon is. He tugs it on anyway. It has the tiny dragon from Mulan on it and it’s bright cherry red, like cheap soda pop. There are two holes cut in the back for his wings, like all of his weekend shirts have. The ones he wears when he doesn’t have to go anywhere, because it’s more comfortable to have his wings out. Sometimes he wears them out and about when Penny spells his wings invisible and just says that it’s a fashion statement, but he gets weird looks.

His mouth still feels gummy and gross so he brushes his teeth again, then wanders out to the kitchen. 

Simon has never used their kitchen for anything except making toast and eggs. Sometimes toast on eggs. He can also make tea, but Baz and Penny usually do that, because Simon is apparently shit at it. 

Baz sometimes cooks when Penny’s out. He made kushari once, which he said was an egyptian dish. Simon thought it seemed like spaghetti but better and with garbanzo beans and garlic. Baz had rolled his eyes when Simon said that, but it had been fond. They often get takeout, because Baz doesn’t  _ like  _ cooking, he only tolerates it because he can’t stand eating what Simon can make.

Once, Simon made shepherds pie and almost burnt down the flat. They ordered pizza that night, and Simon had almost broken the bathroom wall’s tile when he punched it. He hadn’t told Baz or Penny, just cleaned the new cuts on his hand and papered his knuckles with bandaids. If he’s good at anything, it’s bandaging his wounds. 

He feels useless, often. Like he’s just living off what Baz and Penny can do. He never really learned any life skills, just how to ignore people and a whole load of magical stuff that’ll never come in handy now. He thinks that someday they’ll both leave him and go off on a magical roadtrip where they do smart-people things and snark at each other. Eat at fancy restaurants where they can both pronounce all the italian names and talk about… Simon doesn’t know. Economics, maybe. Baz is majoring in them, and he talks about what he’s leaning with Penny sometimes. Simon always zones out as soon as he mentions stocks or supply and demand or the tragedy of the commons, so maybe he’d enjoy Penny’s company better...

Simon pushes his thoughts out of his head and decides to make eggs. He can make hard-boiled eggs, which Baz thinks are abhorrent (his word), scrambled eggs, but they don’t have milk, and omelets. Omelets are the only possible option, Simon supposes, so he sticks his nose into the fridge and looks around for ingredients. Cheese, mushrooms, peppers. Simon’s too lazy to cook any meat to put in it, so he skips that.

He cracks three eggs into a metal bowl that they use only  _ for  _ eggs, because Penny’s new friends are mostly vegan and Penny doesn’t want to risk cross-contamination. Or something like that. Baz had scoffed when she’d announced that, but the egg-bowl stuck. Pepper and salt and a tiny tiny bit of water because Simon thinks watery eggs are disgusting. Baz’s eggs are always watery. 

Simon pours his eggs into the pan and starts to cook them, carefully turning them so that it cooks evenly. Baz walks in just as Simon starts to chop the peppers, which he should have done earlier.

“Speak of the devil,” Simon says, in lieu of a greeting. Baz rolls his eyes and hops onto the kitchen island across from Simon.

“You weren’t even speaking, Snow, that makes no sense.” Baz hadn’t bothered to get dressed before coming out. He’s just wearing his boxer shorts and the tank top he wears to sleep. It’s a glittery one that Fiona bought him and it’s a sleep shirt because he’d never wear it in public. Me and Penny are the only people that have ever seen him in it. 

“I was thinking about you,” Simon says, even though he wasn’t, really. He was thinking about eggs. However, he’s usually thinking about Baz in some small part of his brain, like there’s an area sectioned away with caution tape, reserved specifically for his boyfriend. 

“Oh, thinking? I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

Simon sticks his tongue out and chops up the last of the peppers, scraping them to the side of the cutting board and grabbing the mushrooms. “You’re so mean.”

Baz slips off the counter and kisses the mole on Simon’s neck. “You love me, though.”

“Dumb of me.” Simon grins up at Baz and he leans against the fridge, languidly. Most everything Baz does is languid. 

“Indeed.” Baz stands back up and opens the fridge, scanning its contents. “Do we have milk?”

“No. Penny said she’d pick some up when she came home. I texted her last night.”

Baz makes a face and Simon laughs, sleepy and bright. Simon dumps the chopped vegetables into the eggs and sprinkles some of the pre-shredded cheddar cheese in, then carefully folds the omelet in half. “You want some eggs, right?”

“With mushrooms?”

“Yeah.” Simon slides the eggs onto a plate and drops the pan in the sink, to be taken care of later, probably by Simon. He does the dishes most of the time, when they use dishes. 

“Just a little, then.” 

Simon cuts a third of the omelet off and finds another plate for it. Baz doesn’t usually eat breakfast, which Simon would be worried about if it wasn’t for the whole ‘doesn’t need to eat much at all’ thing. Baz sits on a stool at the counter while he eats. Simon clambours onto the top of the island and sits criss-cross-applesauce, his plate in his lap. His tail swishes behind him, knocking a few papers off of the counter and onto the tiled floor.

“I think that was Bunces’s homework, Simon,” Baz says, a laugh in his voice. 

“Not like I destroyed it.” Simon takes another bite of his omelet. It’s mediocre, but Baz isn’t complaining, just smiling as he eats, his fangs poking out. Simon loves him, a bit, he thinks. 


	2. baz

They end up back in their bed, because it’s a weekend and they have nowhere to be. Baz sits against the headboard, reading, his legs over Simon’s back. Simon sprawls sideways on his stomach, trying to play  _ Zelda  _ on his computer. He’s gotten it to work, after weeks of fiddling with the hardware, but he’s yet to figure out how to actually play the game without running into walls constantly. Baz thinks it’s hilarious. 

“We can just buy you a video game console, Snow,” Baz says, looking up from his murder mystery. “You might improve with a better controller.”

“I put too much work into this to give up now,” Simon says. His tongue sticks out of his mouth just a little while he’s concentrating, and Baz watches him play. He doesn’t watch the screen, of course- even if he didn’t find video games tedious, Simon is just running in circles in the middle of a field- he watches Snow. Simon playing video games is just as fascinating as Simon anywhere else. 

His wings are folded on his back, but not as neatly as normal, so they still take up a lot of space and lay back over Baz’s legs. Simon’s gotten tanner over the summer. Baz suspects that he spends a lot of time shirtless when Baz isn’t around, probably sunning himself. It makes sense that Simon would be drawn to the sun- it feels like there’s a piece of it in him. 

His moles are in the same places they’ve always been, constellations that Baz thinks he’s damn near memorized, and they’ve overlaid with summer-specific freckles. Baz wonders what his dad would think of what he knows now- spells, S&P stocks, and Snows freckles. His dad wants him to invest in all these different businesses, and Baz is fine with that, but it’s all they talk about at this point, and Baz talks about money all day at school. 

Simon and Baz never talk about money- Simon doesn’t really have any, except that pile of leprechaun's gold in their closet, and Baz has a lot, but it’s not really his. There’s never seemed like there’s much else to say about it, so they don’t. It’s a nice reprise. 

Sometimes he talks about it with Bunce, but never in a personal context, just when they have their ‘study dates’ and chat about whatever they’re learning. Baz isn’t certain what Bunce is majoring in. She seems to be studying a wildly different topic whenever they talk about school, and he’s never bothered to ask. 

Baz turns the page of his novel, so that Simon will think he’s reading. He doesn’t like being caught staring at Snow, even if Snow gazes at him just as much. (and Snow  _ gazes,  _ like some moon-struck idiot.) It feels too much like back at school, when Baz would end up staring at the back of Simon’s head in some random class, only mostly paying attention. Simon is eye-catching, like a bonfire, bright and eagar and a fucking force of destruction. Baz thought Simon would stop destroying things when his magic disappeared, but he’s managed to spill tea on Baz’s chromebook no less than three times and there was the one time that he almost burnt down the flat trying to make dinner.

Baz noticed the bandaids on Simon’s hands that night. He doesn’t think Snow knows he did, but he did, and he’d done his best to be especially soft with Simon that night- he tried. Being sweet is still a new thing to him, and he’s not the best at it. Better than Snow, who’s insulted him almost on the regular. Baz tries to view what his boyfriend says through Snow’s eyes- he thinks most of them were actually compliments, just hidden behind bumbled words. 

He turns another page- he’s missing a solid amount of this book thinking about Simon, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. When Simon’s around, he takes up a disproportionate amount of Baz’s brainpower. He feels like a laptop running a program that takes up more memory than it has. 

Baz absently starts to stroke one of Simon’s wings, petting it like he would a pet snake. Simon says it feels weird, but Baz does it when they’re cuddling, early in the morning, and he swears Simon purrs. Simon’s wings relax under Baz’s hand and fold into a more loose position, laying almost flat over Baz’s knees. Simon pauses his game and turns to look up at Baz, his face almost glowing, teeth bright white. Simon takes better care of his teeth than anyone else Baz knows and his smile is bloody radiant. 

“How’s the book?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

“I haven’t been paying it much attention,” Baz admits, and beckons for Simon to come closer. Simon turns, displacing Baz’s legs and ruffling his wings, curling up next to Baz. Baz curls an arm around Simon’s upper back, where it won’t interfere with the other boy getting his wings situated. He idly rubs at one of Simon’s moles, the one right on his shoulder. He flips back a few pages to start where he left off, and Simon laughs at him.

Simon’s laugh sounds like angels singing, and Baz loves it. He loves Simon, he thinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is def shorter because i wrote the whole thing in one sitting and didn't think about even word distribution- i was planning on publishing it as a oneshot but i... didn't.. so eh
> 
> i hope u've enjoyed this fic!!

**Author's Note:**

> this fic (or, the first 300 words of it) have been in my google docs for literal years and i finally finished it  
please comment/kudos if you liked it! 
> 
> u can find me on tumblr @the-stars-say-gay


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